


Long Live the King

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Character Death Fix, Dragon Sickness, Durin Family Feels, Erebor Reclaimed, Fix-It, Fíli and Kíli Brotherly Love, Gen, King Under the Mountain, Protectiveness, Team as Family, Thorin Is an Idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26206654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: Being King Under the Mountain meant much more than sitting on a big chair and wearing a crown. Sometimes it means preventing meaningless wars before they even began and earning the respect of the company of dwarves that you've spent the last few months travelling with, ruling with your brother by your side. Apparently, Fili still has a lot to learn about being in charge of his people.
Relationships: Fíli & Kíli (Tolkien), Fíli & Thorin's Company
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	Long Live the King

**Author's Note:**

> God, I have been working on this damn fic for SO LONG and I gave up on it for a while because of how long it was, and I started to sacrifice content and quality to make it shorter, but now that I've come back to it, I gave up on that and just made it as long as it needed to be. And hey, this fandom is kinda dead in terms of GEN fics, so nobody is going to COMPLAIN about a very long fic, right??? Anyway, I swear that if they had stopped Thorin when he was starting to act like an idiot, everyone would have lived and the war would never have happened, so this is my interpretation of how I would have liked for that to go down. But let me if know if you liked it!! It took so much damn effort so I hope at least a few people end up reading this.

“Fili, don’t be a fool,” his uncle said to him at the dock of Laketown. “You belong with the Company.”

“I belong with my brother,” Fili bit back. Because it was _obvious_ , why couldn’t his uncle just understand that?

Later, when Kili was lying on Bard’s family table with the blasted elf leaning over him, Fili turned to Bofur with his arms crossed. “I can’t believe my uncle would just abandon Kili here, alone. If we hadn’t stayed, and you hadn’t slept in, he would have been ailing in a town full of men alone and afraid, and he probably would have been dead by the time we got back.”

Bofur puffed on his pipe. “I’m sure he had his reasons,” Bofur tried to defend Thorin, despite knowing he wasn’t really in the right.

Fili shook his head. “He knows how desperately Kili has wanted to see the Lonely Mountain. We grew up with tales of the mountain for as long as he could walk, and to abandon him like this when he needs us... it’s not right.”

“No, it’s not,” Ori said as he joined the other Dwarves. “I did not want to say it before, but it is very disturbing. He is changing, and I can’t say entirely that it’s for the better.”

“What are you saying?” Bofur asked, scratching at the back of his neck. “Are you saying that Thorin is sick?”

Ori shook his head. “I’m saying that this quest was a mistake.”

* * *

They arrived at Erebor after the dragon was slain and felt a great sense of longing they never knew they had when Balin welcomed them through the gate and into the home of their ancestors. They ran down the stairs to find more gold and treasure than they had ever seen in their lives, and their uncle, decorated in jewellery and gems and stolen pieces of the dragon's horde, his grandfathers crown crested upon his head. “Look at all of this!” He said when they were alone, arms raised, spinning around to take it all in. “Fili, Kili- can you believe it? Have you ever seen anything like this in your lives?”

Kili was too enamoured with seeing the place he’d only heard about in stories to pay any attention, but Fili was watching their uncle with great care. “Is so much finery really necessary?” He asked. “Have you retired your chainmail and weapons for... jewellery and a crown?”

Thorin just shrugged. “Why not retake that which is rightfully ours? It was never the dragons- everything in this chamber belongs to the dwarves under the mountain.”

Grinning, Kili reached down to run his fingers through a pile of golden coins and watched them fall through the air and land back into the pile. “Look at it all, Fili. Can you picture pleased mother will be when we bring her some?”

“No,” Thorin snapped, and Kili actually flinched, the coins resting on his palm falling to the ground with the movement. “No treasure is to ever leave this chamber unless I declare it, you understand?”

“Y-yes, uncle,” Kili replied, startled. “Of course.”

Kili was loyal, and unquestioning, and honest. Fili knew more of the world, and knew better about the secret, darkest desires of people, and didn’t trust quite as easily, so while Kili trusted their uncle with ease, Fili still had his suspicions.

* * *

“Balin,” Fili chased after the older Dwarf. “Please, for the love of Durin, tell me that you’ve noticed something off about my uncle and that I’m not losing my mind.”

“Off?” Balin stopped his gait to look at Fili with a strange expression, eyebrows raised. “Off how?”

Fili crossed his arms behind his back and started pacing back and forth across the small hallway. “Right now, he’s downstairs, counting out every gold coin in the dragon's horde. That isn’t strange to you? He’s become obsessed with wealth and ruling. He used to be a fighter not... this. Whatever this is.”

Balin shrugged and continued to walk, and Fili hurried to follow after him. “He’s a king now, Fili, you can’t have expected him to stay the same dwarf we travelled with.”

“No,” Filli admitted. “Of course not, but I never expected him to become-”

A loud shout from somewhere down below drew their attention, and they were running before they even comprehended what it was, and then they were bathed in a golden glow, and Thorin was roaring, standing knee-deep in treasure. “Again! I lost count again! Am I missing some? Is it gone? Why is there _less_?”

Balin and Fili exchanged a worried glance. “See what I mean?” Fili said. Balin didn’t reply.

* * *

Fili was brooding in the halls way back where he thought nobody could see him, but Ori ran up to him, seemingly in quite a hurry, holding a thick leather tome between his palms and a quill in the other. “Uh, excuse me, Fili, sorry to interrupt, but I’ve been doing the bookkeeping on what we owe some of the people, and we haven’t actually paid back anyone. I mean, we promised the men gold for their help and the elves those moon gems in exchange for letting us go, but we haven’t done that, and I’m not too sure what I should do.”

It was too much to hope for a few moments of peace. Fili couldn’t help but sigh. “Yes Ori, I know. I had my suspicions. I will talk to my uncle about it, alright? Try not to worry too much, I’m sure it’ll get sorted out eventually.”

“It’s just that,” Ori was never one for letting things go. “Thorin promised those people their share in exchange for helping us, and... he’s a man of his word. He would never go back on his word, would he?”

Not sure what to say to that, Fili patted Ori on the shoulder and made his way past.

* * *

“Dwalin,” Fili said desperately, “Dori, Nori, Gloin, I need your advice.”

“What’s the problem, lad?” Gloin asked, turning to face Fili as he approached. 

Tugging at the braided parts of his beard, Fili came to a stop before them. “It’s my uncle. Please, tell me I’m not going mad. It just seems to me as if he’s getting worse with every day that passes. It’s disconcerting. I’m worried.”

To his dismay, Dori, Nori and Gloin all laughed at him and waved him off with nothing more than a flick of their wrists and the roll of their eyes. “Oh boy, you had us worried,” Dori said, holding his belly with one hand while clapping Fili on the shoulder with the other. “We thought something serious had happened.”

“What do you mean?” Fili demanded. He turned to Nori. “Have you managed to take even a single piece of gold from that horde? We all know how you can never keep your sticky fingers in your pockets or walk through a room without taking something.”

“Well- no,” Nori frowned. “But that’s only because he won’t let me down there. He won’t let anyone down there.”

“Exactly. Isn’t _that_ cause enough for concern?”

But Fili was speaking to the air, because the dwarves had already lost interest and gone on their merry way to get whatever they had to do. Fili was feeling very disheartened, but Dwalin was still there, and he was looking at Fili was an expression the younger dwarf couldn’t identify. “I’ve seen it, lad,” he said, and Fili felt himself swelling up with hope. “He’s different. Changed, and not for the better. You’re not alone.”

“What do we do?” Fili asked desperately. “We must act-”

“No,” Dwalin shook his head. “We will watch and we will wait, and when the time is right, we will strike.”

Even though Fili didn’t agree, he had no choice but to follow orders.

* * *

The Arkenstone was in the human's hands, and Thorin was holding Bilbo over the side of the wall, dangerously close to smashing his head on the rocks below. Kili was there, wide-eyed and horrified, and Fili hated that his innocence was stolen in such a way-watching as the man he looked up to threaten to kill his friend like this. Bilbo was screaming, frightened, as Thorin’s grip loosened, and before he knew it, Fili was there, holding tight to Bilbo’s tunic in the horrible possibility that Thorin could let go. “What are you doing?” he hissed, and Thorin hardly looked at him. “This is Bilbo- _Bilbo_! Our friend, our Hobbit, our burglar! Bilbo Baggins!”

“I don’t care who he is or what he is,” Thorin snarled. “He stole from me, and he betrayed us. He does not deserve our friendship.”

“That does not mean that he deserves death,” Fili tried to pry Bilbo away from under his uncle. There was a grand commotion happening behind Thorin as the other dwarves struggled with what to do. Do they save their friend, or obey their king? Kili was on Thorin’s other side, holding tight to Bilbo’s arm, and Balin and Dwalin were close, just in case. “If you no longer want him here, then let him go, and send him on his way back to Laketown. He doesn’t have to stay here if you’re just going to try to kill him.”

There was no response, “Uncle,” Kili pleaded, and it almost sounded like a prayer, a desperate one at that. “Please. Let him go. He’s family.”

A scowl crossed Thorin's face as he jerked his arm away from Bilbo and suddenly all that was holding the little Hobbit up was Fili’s grip on his tunic and Kili’s hold on his arm. “He is not family. He is a traitor and a thief,” and then he was gone, bushing past the rest of the dwarves and leaving it to Fili and Kili with the help of Dwalin to pull Bilbo up and over the wall.

“Why did you do it?” Kili asked Bilbo as he dusted him off as best he could. The poor Hobbit was shaking like a leaf, and who could blame him? Kili just held him close to his chest, in case he thought someone might try to kill him again.

Bilbo was silent for a long time and looking very sad indeed. “Because,” he said eventually. “I thought it would help him come to his senses and stop fighting. I thought that if they had something to bargain with, then he would return what was stolen from them long ago. I was a fool.”

“No,” Fili said. “I only wish I had thought of it myself.”

Later, when Bilbo was safely out of the castle with a pack full of essentials, Fili was just walking through the halls of their home, trying to memorise the engravings on the walls and the stories they told when he heard footsteps approach him from behind. “Fili,” said Thorin, who was very rarely seen out of the room where all the gold was kept. Fili stopped his pace to look at his uncle, and Thorin stood beside him and turned a very dark look on him indeed. “If you ever question me like that again, I will not be so lenient with my punishment.”

And then he was gone as quickly as he’d arrived, and Fili was left wondering what had happened to the uncle he once knew.

* * *

Kili was smoking his pipe on the balcony when Fili found him. “What’s on your mind?”

“We’re going to war,” Kili didn’t even turn to face him when he approached, too busy watching the readying armies down below and the people in Laketown setting up tents and temporary homes after the dragon attack. Elven steeds patrolled the distance. “But I don’t know what we’re fighting for. We’re all going to die because people just want their things back. I don’t understand it. Why are we fighting?”

“We always knew this day would come,” Fili joined his brother so they were standing side by side on the balcony. “We joined this quest with the knowledge that we would probably die.”

“I know,” Kili sighed. “I just thought I would die for something meaningful.”

Fili scoffed- he knew the feeling. Kili was not the only one who wanted to die for something more than a petty dispute about stolen property. He thought he would die fighting the dragon, or at the edge of a blade, or for fighting for something like his great-grandfather Thror did- but no. They were fighting elves and men, over absolutely nothing. The men wanted what they deserved, and the elves wanted back what was rightfully theirs. The war was for nothing but their uncle's pride. But despite that, Fili still wanted to protect his uncle's decisions, even though he didn’t deserve it. “You don’t think this is meaningful?”

Blowing smoke out of his lips, Kili handed Fili the pipe so he could take his own lungful. “You do? I think that this is nothing but a mistake. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Everyone knows that I will follow him to the ends of the world if he asked, but this... this is just wrong.”

“You want to know what I think?” Fili blew out a smoke ring. He was always better at them than Kili was. “I think it’s the dragon sickness.”

The speed at which Kili whipped his head around to face his brother made his hair smack Fili on the side of the face. “Dragon sickness? Thorin? You must be out of your mind.”

“So everyone keeps telling me,” Fili drew a thick plume of smoke into his lungs. “But there’s no other explanation. He tried to kill Bilbo over a stone. Sure, it was the Arkenstone, but it’s still just a jewel. He nearly killed our good friend over treasure.”

Kili was silent as he took in Fili’s words, and looked over the preparing armies. “I never should have made that promise to mother,” he said eventually, and it made Fili choke on the smoke in his throat. “I didn’t mean it when I made it. I just did it to make her feel better about us leaving. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it.”

Stifling his oncoming coughing fit, Fili handed his brother back his pipe and threw an arm over his shoulder. “Well, what’s see what I can do about getting you back home to mother, safe and sound huh?”

Snorting, Kili took back his pipe but didn’t place it back to his lips. He was looking at his brother with a sad expression that wounded Fili to his core. “How? Are _you_ going to talk some sense into him? Good luck with that.”

But Fili was already shaking his head before Kili had finished speaking. “I’m going to talk sense into the other ten of us dwarves and hope that one of them will be strong enough to confront Thorin and win.”

“A mutiny?” There was a hint of humour in Kili’s voice. “We may be the first dwarves in Durin history to be so bold.”

“Well, we’ve got to start somewhere,” Fili grinned. “And us dwarves are known for being stubborn, huh? Why can’t we go down in history as being stupid, too.”

But Kili wasn’t smiling anymore, and he was watching Gandalf manoeuvre around the waiting army below, with Bilbo stuck close by his side as if fearful of all the tall elves on their mighty steeds. “I don’t want to die in this war, brother.”

Fili felt something in his chest break and shatter irreversibly. “And if I get a say in it, then you won’t have to.”

* * *

“Oh, come now lad!” Dwalin, as always, was the first to complain. “What have you called us all here for?”

“We’ve got work to do!” Bofur agreed, voice as loud as Dwalin’s. “A war to prepare for!”

Fili realized that he might have bitten off more than he could chew when he summoned all the dwarves to the armoury while his uncle was far away, hidden away in the treasury, burying himself in gold. His confidence wavered a little, but Kili stood by his side, so close that they were touching, and Fili found himself bolstered again. “You can’t all be so blinded by your faith,” Fili said. “We all know that this war is not one worth fighting. We are all going to die over a petty feud. Why wouldn’t we just give the people back what we promised them?”

Some of the dwarves fell silent. Other groaned loudly and rolled their eyes. “Not this again,” Nori moaned. “He thinks that Thorin’s gone mad.”

The groaning got louder. “Oh, Fili, don’t be ridiculous,” Dori complained. “He’s our leader and _your_ uncle. Don’t be spreading such blasphemous lies about family.”

“It’s true that he’s our uncle, but it should mean more to you that we worry about his sanity considering we’re family,” Fili retorted. “He’s sick, and I know that nobody wants to admit it, but deep down we all know it’s true.”

“What kind of sickness?” Bofur asked, unconvinced. 

The feeling of Kili’s hand on his lower back urged Fili to continue. “Dragon sickness.”

A wave of uproar nearly knocked Fili off of his feet in its intensity as the dwarves protested in rage. But thankfully, Kili was always there when Fili needed him. “Can you really be so foolish?” Somehow, his voice was louder than the uproar. “You saw what he did to Bilbo! He nearly killed him over a stone! The little hobbit who saved us from the trolls and the goblins and freed us from the elven prison and outsmarted the terrible dragon! Bilbo was the one who found the secret entrance into the mountain in the first place! The little hobbit who saved Thorin from being slain by Azog the Defiler when he cut down _Thrain_ during the first battle of orcs and dwarves! The hobbit who had never held a blade in his entire existence and who put his life on the line to protect Thorin when he was most vulnerable! Can you imagine Thorin in his right mind ever doing that to _Biblo_ of all people?”

There was silence. Fili knew without a doubt that Kili’s words had gotten through to them where Fili’s had not. “The boy’s right,’ Oin said into the silence. “I’ve seen it too. He spends his every waking moment down there where the dragon once rested, counting the gold and platinum. I too, believe that Thorin has the dragon sickness.”

“How can you be sure?” Ori asked, hugging his book tight to his chest. 

Dwalin stepped forward to stand beside his brother, his hands crossed over his chest. “Because it’s the same ailment we watched his grandfather suffer from many years ago. And it’s gotten its claws into Thorin too. No member of the line of Durin has ever been able to resist the dragons call.”

Glion turned to them with an angry expression. “Well, why didn’t you say a word about it then? We could have nipped this in the bud long ago!”

“I had told Bilbo about it before he had his falling out with Thorin,” Balin said. “I hadn’t wanted to spread the rumour in case I was wrong. I was… so hoping that I was wrong. But I’ve seen it with my own eyes, now, and I’m afraid that Thorin is too far gone. The dragon sickness is too strong for him to fight off on his own.”

Bofur reached up and slowly pulled his hat from his head and wrung it between his hands like a child with a blanket. “Did you…” he began. “Did you know from the beginning that Bilbo had found the Arkenstone and was hiding it from Thorin?”

Sighing, Balin nodded. “I did, aye. He never showed it to me or admitted it, but he spoke about it in the hypothetical. As if he needed confirmation of whether or not the stone would help. If it would make it worse, or if it would… fix it. I told him no, and that was the last I ever heard of it. Until the men and elves showed up with it at the palace gates.”

“Then what do we do?” Ori asked. “We all know that anyone affected by the dragon sickness for as long as Thorin has would be long gone by now. What are we going to do?”

Dwalin looked angry, but internally angry, like his fury only existed because he knew there was something wrong and he had done nothing to help. “I hate to say it, lads, but I no longer think that Thorin is fit to be king.”

A hush fell over the dwarves as they looked to each other and took a step backwards. “You can’t be serious,” some of them said. “Don’t you think that's a touch too far?”

“Silence, all of you,” Balin said. He wasn’t as loud as his brother, but when he spoke, he was listened to. “We have been alive longer than any of you, and we have seen the disastrous effects of the dragon sickness up close. If Thorin is affected by it now, even if he beats it, it will only be momentarily. It will come back, again and again, and again until it consumes him. There is no real cure. He is doomed, and he shall take us all down with him.”

“But, if Thorin can not be king…” Bombur spoke the words on everyone's mind. “Then who will be the King Under the Mountain?”

“Oh, please,” Dwalin snorted, and even Balin began to snigger into his fist. “What an easy question. Don’t you think, if Thorin would be unable to rule, that his _heir_ would take over the crown?”

The whole world seemed to stop as all the dwarves eyes turned to Fili, a new light blooming behind in their defeated faces, and suddenly, Fili felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he was falling deeper and deeper into an endless pit of despair. “Me? Why me?”

“Why you? Because, boy, you’re Durin’s heir. Thorin’s been training you for this all your life,” Dwalin continued. “You had to have assumed that this time would come sooner or later. Us dwarves aren’t immortal like the elf-folk. Eventually, we die. When kings die, another takes his place. This is exactly the same.”

“How do you suggest we break the news to Thorin?” Fili objected. “Do you honestly think that would end well?”

There was a pause as the dwarves considered this. “Thorin… he will be difficult to convince. But we’ll make him step down even if it kills us.” Balin said. “I foresee that it will kill us, one way or another. If he is allowed to continue his rule, he will enter us into countless wars that we most likely can not win and most of us won't make it out alive. I would rather die trying to protect my kin than be slain by an orc in another war driven by a foolish king and his greed.”

All the energy had left Fili now, and he stood there, dumbstruck. If it weren’t for Kili holding him upright from behind, he suspected that he might have fallen back into a rack of heavy mail, or down the stone steps. “How do you expect me to gain the respect of the people when I don’t even have a full beard yet?” he protested, but his voice was weaker than he would have liked. "How do you expect them to follow me?"

But Balin shook his head and reached out to rest of a hand on Fili's shoulder. "You don't need the respect of a people as a whole, of a civilization. You just need the respect of us twelve. And Bilbo, if he would ever come back to rejoin our party. And you already have our respect. You've always had it. And we'll always follow you."

While Fili was distracted with his impending doom and all the open, hopeful faces of the dwarves before him, Kili let out a laugh so loud and so gleeful and unexpected that it actually surprised him and wrapped his arms around his brother from behind. "You've already got me in your corner! I'd follow you to the edge of the world if you asked me to!"

Fili didn't have the heart to tell him that he wasn't being helpful in the situation, and instead, he just stood there in his brother's warm embrace, still reeling from the whole encounter. 

* * *

There had been no more talk of the uprising for the next few days, so Fili thought it was finally safe to retreat to his chambers without the worry of being unexpectedly called for to subdue his uncle or talk some sense into his treasure-addled mind.

"You'd look rather dashing in a crown," Fili was rather taken aback to find his room occupied, and his brother lounging on his bed with a sly smile and a spinning arrow between his fingers. “Though now that I think about it, you always have had an oddly shaped head. We may struggle to find a crown that would fit you.”

Sighing, Fili shut the door behind him. “Get your shoes off my bed. You’re getting mud and warg guts everywhere.” Grinning, Kili dutifully did as he was told and swung his feet off the bed and sat up, setting his arrow aside. “On second thought, what are you doing in my quarters anyway? Last I checked you had your own room.”

“We don’t spend any _time_ together anymore, brother,” Kili complained. “What happened to us sharing our rooms? Those were the days, remember?”

“We don’t share rooms because at the moment we’re currently residing in a homestead that houses thousands of our people at any given time, and it currently houses thirteen. We have more than enough room, and there’s no need for us to share. We don’t even have to be in the same section of the castle if we didn’t want to,” Fili moved to the bedside table and began to take off his father’s jewellery that he wore with him at all times, careful to obscure his view of Kili with his hair.

Kili was silent for a few long moments, so silent that Fili was worried that he’d upset him before he spoke, and his voice was a fraction of what it once was. “It’s a wonder he hasn’t taken those,” he said. “I was fiddling with mother's ring earlier, and he demanded that I hand it over before he realized what it was. I wonder how long it’s going to take him before he confiscates that which doesn’t belong to him other than just hoarding it as the dragon did. I’ve been thinking. There’s a distinct difference between taking things and refusing to return, isn’t there? I’m not quite sure if that makes it better or worse.”

Pausing, Fili sighed again, but this time it wasn’t exasperated. It was… empathetic. “Kili…”

“I know that I have nothing to worry about because we’re going to fix it,” Kili continued, and he pulled the ring in question out of the same pocket that held his promise stone. “But sometimes I wonder… this is our mother's wedding ring. Thorin was there at the wedding when our mother married our father. His _sister_. How could he possibly think that I stole this from the horde when it has her _name_ inscribed within? Is he… forgetting? Is the sickness addling his mind so severely that he doesn’t remember everything that has happened before this?”

“I don’t know,” Fili admitted honestly. “We’ve never encountered anyone with dragon sickness before, just know based on the stories Balin would tell us about our great-grandfather. I don’t know if anyone has ever survived it for as long as Thorin has.”

“And, unlike Thror, Thorin has never been in possession of the Arkenstone, so maybe the sickness isn’t as bad as it could be?” Kili suggested hopefully before the mood grew sombre. “Someone… someone needs to tell Bilbo. Gandalf too. We can’t just leave them out there to rot while we plot Thorin’s demise. Someone needs to get a message to them. And we both know that it should be me.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Fili moved away from the bedside table and joined his brother on the bed. He knew, realistically, that Kili was right. With everything going the way it was, Fili wouldn’t be able to get away, and Kili had the lightest feet out of all thirteen dwarves. “We shouldn’t think about that now. We should be worrying about other things, like how we’re going to convince Thorin to step down from the throne. I doubt that’d be easy even without the dragon sickness inciting his greed.”

A smile brightened up Kili’s face as he turned to face Fili and slipped Dis’ wedding ring back into his pocket. “You’re going to be _king_ , Fili. _Our_ king. How do you feel?

“I’m afraid,” Fili groaned as he flopped back onto the bed and ran his hands down his face. “I knew that I was raised with the _idea_ that I would inherit the throne someday just as Thorin did with his father, but I never in a million years expected it to happen. Not so soon at the very least. Our uncle has barely been King Under the Mountain for a few days and yet he’s already in the midst of a mutiny. By his own _nephews_ no less.” 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. The best king our people will see for generations,” Kili laughed, leaning back on his hands against the pillows. “And I will be right by your side until the very end. What will your first royal decree as king be?”

“That all stolen goods and objects shall be returned to their rightful owners?” Fili suggested, voice slightly muffled by his hands still covering his face.

The noise Kili made was so familiar that Fili managed to drag his hands off his face and look up at his brother. “That would certainly make you the smartest king our people has ever had. That is, of course, if we can find a crown big enough to fit you,” the teasing look almost permanently on Kili’s face went away for a moment, the expression that Fili had grown up with and had been by his side all their lives, and his expression turned serious as he placed a hand on Fili’s arm. “Mother would be proud of you, you know.”

Suddenly, Fili was not so sure. The way Kili said it sounded like he’d been thinking about it for a long while and that was the conclusion he had come to. Fili felt the opposite. He felt like he was disappointing his mother more than he had ever thought possible. “You really think so?” Fili asked, refusing to look at his brother. “She sent us with Thorin to protect him, to aid to his quest, to keep him out of danger. And instead, we’re going to overthrow him, and I’m going to take his place as king. Do you really think she’d be proud?”

“I think she’d understand,” Kili said. “It was her grandfather too that was inflicted by the dragon sickness. She’s seen what it can do to kind men in the presence of greed and gold. She would… want us to do this, I think. She’s always understood.”

While that was true, Fili wasn’t quite sure if he could think the same way. “I hope you’re right, Kili. I would hate to see her again with bad news and have her affection for me sour.”

“Don’t worry brother, I’m always right,” Kili laughed into Fili’s ear as he leapt forward and wrapped his arms around him from behind, and Fili held onto his brother, arms folded across his chest like the warmest of cloaks on the coldest winters night like it was a rope and he was falling into darkness. “We’ll be fine.”

Fili didn’t have the energy to argue.

* * *

“Fili,” Thorin cornered him in the hallway as Fili was following the rest of the dwarves to the mess hall, and as Thorin put his hand on his shoulder, holding him back, he watched Kili flounce towards the smell of food, still throwing comments to FIli over his shoulder as if not even realizing that his brother was no longer directly behind him as he always was. “I need to speak with you.”

It was not often that they saw Thorin out of the treasury, and in a good mood no less, and Fili decided to say as much. “Uncle- you seem to be in much brighter spirits than you have been as of late. To what do I owe the honour?”

Thorin looked both ways down the narrow stone hallway as if searching for prying eyes and eavesdroppers before he tightened his hold on Fili’s shoulder and ushered him deeper down the hall. “I need your help,” Thorin said, voice barely a whisper, but Fili felt his knees shake anyway. “And I believe that you’re the only person I can trust with such sensitive information.”

Choking on his spit, Fili felt like the conversation was getting more and more ironic and suspicious with every word that left Thorin’s mouth. “Uh, yes, of course, uncle. Whatever I can do, I’d be happy to. You can certainly trust me.”

“I never had any doubts about that Fili, my sisters eldest son, my heir,” Thorin turned to face FIli fully and placed both hands heavily onto his shoulders, looking into Fili’s eyes with honesty and trust. Both things that Fili knew he didn’t deserve. “I believe that there’s a thief in our midst.”

Fili blinked. He would have taken a step back if it weren’t for Thorin’s hands on his shoulders. “A thief?”

“Yes,” Thorin repeated as if it were obvious. “A thief, a liar, a traitor. Someone is conspiring against me, and I need you, my heir and most loyal subject, to find out who and deliver them to me for justice.”

“What gives you that impression, uncle?” Fili asked. “I haven’t noticed anything different lately, and I’ve been keeping a very close eye on the goings-on within the castle walls.”

“Every day I count my gold, Fili,” Thorin said, voice hushed and frantic at the same time. “I know every single item in that room, every stone, every piece of gold, silver and platinum, every jewel, every trinket that holds any sort of value, and some have gone missing. I can feel it. Someone has been sneaking into the chamber without my sight and taking coins from my pile.”

Sinking back against the wall, Fili licked his lips. “Are you sure you haven’t just… lost count?”

Scowling, Thorin pushed Fili backwards until his back hit the stone wall behind him. He didn’t push him hard, but FIli was so caught off guard by the whole conversation that he wasn’t expecting it, and the sudden shove made him lose his footing. “Of course not. I’m very careful when it comes to that. I think it might have been Nori- that selfish fool never could keep his sticky fingers in his pockets and out of other people's business. Or maybe Bombour- the fat scamp will do anything he can for a good meal. Or Bofur to feed his drinking habit. Or, of course, it could most certainly be Kili-”

A rage that Fili had never felt before flared up in his chest. “It wasn’t Kili,” he said, before his uncle had even finished speaking. “You’d be a fool to assume so.”

A dangerous look flared in Thorin’s eyes. “You dare doubt me? You dare to challenge your king? Your flesh and blood? Just the other day I saw him sneaking away with a ring he took from my collection, hidden in the folds of his robes, and he tried to lie, to _trick_ me into believing that he brought it with him, that it was his mother's ring, but I know better. I know my sister and that was not her wedding ring. But I let him take it, because I am a kind king, but who’s to say what else he’s stolen from me while my back was turned?” Thorin’s expression was like a fire, dangerous, unpredictable and unexpected. “How am I supposed to trust him after that? My own kin? A traitor. Dis would be disappointed.”

“Uncle, Kili never stole anything from you,” Fili insisted, careful to keep his voice even and his fists in his pockets. “That truly was our mother's wedding ring. I saw it for myself. He would never take anything from you, especially not now. Not anymore.”

Thorin’s eyes narrowed. Fili wanted to take another step back, but with the wall pressed up against his back, there was nowhere else to go. “You dare defy the crown? You would side with a thief over your uncle, your king? I am your _king_!”

“And Kili is my _brother_ ,” Fili retorted, letting his anger get the better of him. “And I mean no disrespect, Thorin, but I will side with my brother over you every single time.”

“How dare you-” Thorin said, eyes narrowed, face contorted into an expression of pure fury, so close to Fili that he could feel his breath ghosting across his face.

But Thorin didn’t get far in his threat, though, because heavy footsteps echoed down the hall and the great white beard of Balin appeared at the entrance, a worried look on his face as he surveyed the situation with knowing eyes. “What’s going on here? Thorin? Is everything alright?”

Reluctantly, Thorin let go of Fili and stepped away. “We’re fine, old friend. Go back to your meal.”

“Thorin thinks there's a thief in our midst,” Fili said truthfully, and Thorin sent him a toxic look as Balin turned his attention to him. “And he is convinced that Kili is the culprit.”

“Kili?” Balin sounded aghast. “Thorin, you can’t be serious. You’d accuse your own nephew of treason when it’s more likely that you just lost count of all that gold than it is Kili sneaking down there and taking something?”

Scowling, Thorin pulled away from Fili until he hit the other end of the hallway and turned fully to face Balin. “You know me, Balin, and you know that I would never lose count of my grandfather's gold. Someone here has taken it from me, and I will not rest until the culprit is brought to justice, even if the thief is my own nephew.”

Balin looked horrified, and rightfully so. “Kili? The boy who has looked up to you since he was a wee child and who joined you on this suicide quest without a second thought? The boy who fought by your side and would have died if you had asked him? Who, though he was injured, still put on a brave face and fought when he could barely walk? Who didn’t complain when you left him behind in Laketown when we left for the Mountain he has dreamt of seeing?” With every word he spoke, the more rage and doubt poured across Balin’s face, and Fili found himself stepping back. He had never seen Balin angry, and especially not like this, and Fili was both amazed and afraid. “Thorin, you’re not thinking straight. Kili idolizes you. He would never betray you like that.”

A stormy look overcame Thorin’s face as he scowled. “I know what I saw, Balin. I’m not a fool.” and he pushed past both dwarves and marched down the hall back towards the treasury. 

As they watched him go, Balin moved to stand beside Fili and placed a hand on his shoulder, much lighter and gentler than the one Thorin had offered him moments before. “Are you alright, lad?”

“I’m fine,” Fili said, but he wasn’t so sure how true that statement was. “I’ve just… he’s never done that before. And we both know that Kili wouldn’t have taken anything from him, right?”

“Of course not,” Balin agreed. “He’s not in his right mind. I think we’ll have to act quickly with our plan. That is… if you’re ready? I hope so, because between you and me? I think it’s getting worse.”

Honestly, Fili wasn’t ready, but it was about time that he stopped putting it off. “I will follow your lead. When you’re ready to act, you let me know, and I’ll be by your side. Just… I won’t let anyone accuse my brother of things he hasn't done. I just won't do it."

"And fair enough, too," Balin nodded. He pat Fili on the shoulder as he moved away. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll tell the others and we'll deal with Thorin. You just relax and prepare for what is to come."

The only energy that Fili had left to expend was for him to smile and nod as Balin sent him a sympathetic look and turned back down the hallway. Fili was just about to walk back to join the others in the mess hall when he caught sight of a familiar shaped shadow wavering in the torchlight against the stones and Kili’s shadow was gone just as quickly as Fili saw it, and all Fili could do was sit there and sigh.

* * *

“There you are, lad,” Dwalin grumbled as he made his way up to the little nook that Fili had claimed for himself on the outside of the castle walls, his legs swinging back and forth until his heels hit the stone in the little enclosed space protected from the weather and filled with blankets and pillows and handwritten notes, the space just big enough for two. “I’ve been looking for you all over the bloody place. I never would have thought to look for you out here if Kili hadn't pointed me in the right direction.”

“Sorry about that, Dwalin, I wasn’t expecting to be needed so urgently,” Fili said as he shimmied out of the nook and joined the older dwarf on the wall. “What can I do for you?”

A dark look crossed Dawlin’s face. “We’re going to follow through with our plan at the end of the week. I just… we wanted to give you some warning. It’s not going to be pretty, and we’ll probably have to lock him away and throw away the key until the sickness wears off and he comes to his senses. We’ve already told Kili, and he claims that he’ll do everything he can to help us, but I would much rather that he not be around to see it, if you know what I mean.”

Nodding, Fili crossed his arms over his chest to fend off the chill. Honestly, he wished that he personally didn’t have to see it, but he wished that on Kili least of all. “I’ll speak with Kili. He’ll understand. He said something about going to find Bilbo anyway to bring him back, so maybe I’ll send him off on that particular errand while we’re busy dealing with Thorin. But I’ll be there. Whatever you need.”

The dark look on Dwalin’s features was replaced with one of mirth, and a small smile curled up at the corners of his mouth as his eyes twinkled. “Ah, yes, speaking of your brother and your new title as king…” he trailed off as he looked out towards the horizon, where far away the body of Smaug sunk the floating city of Laketown and the angry armies prepared for battle below them. “Every good king needs a royal adviser. A second in command. Even the mayor of Laketown has one, as gutless as he may be. We were thinking that, if you hadn’t already chosen someone, you would consider raising Kili to that standard.”

Fili was a little surprised. “Kili? Why Kili? Not that I’m complaining, he’s obviously my one and only choice for the position, but I’m surprised that the rest of you find him level-headed enough to rule by my side?”

Dwalin chuckled. “He’s young. You both are. But it’s no question that Kili would live and breathe on your beck and call. He’d fall on his sword if you asked him to. We know from experience that the best royal advisers to the king have been siblings. If Balin were to be a king, I would be his adviser. The same with the rest of us. And besides, we want you two to know more than fighting and dying in battle. We’re older than you. Life is more than that. And maybe you could grow old together.”

“You think the rest of the dwarves of Erebor would respect us?” Fili sounded doubtful. “The two youngest dwarves in this entire company in the two highest positions of power? Do you truly think that it would work?”

“I’ve already told you lad, that you don’t need the respect of anyone else but us thirteen,” Dwalin replied. “But to answer your question, yes. I think that they would respect you, over time. And maybe they won’t straight away, but I know you, boy, and I know that you’ll certainly give them a reason to respect you in due time. you’ve already managed to earn all our respect, and that’s a pretty hard thing to do. Just… think it over. We think it’ll be a good thing for both of you.”

“Thanks, Dwalin. I’ll think it over,” Fili nodded, and Dwalin left him alone on the little nook that he and Kili had claimed for themselves, their little hiding spot that overlooked their impending doom, and contemplated whether Dwalin was right or if they were all horrible overestimating his abilities as a leader.

* * *

“It’s all going to happen, soon,” Fili said to Kili as they both stood on the balcony watching their uncle. On either side of the treasury, looking through the gaps between the pillars, the other dwarves were observing Thorin as well as he flounced about in his gold. “I don’t want you to be here when it goes down,”

Kili turned to look at him. “What? Why not? Fili, I know you think that I’m naive and innocent and too young for most things, but I can _help_ you.”

But Fili was shaking his head before Kili had finished speaking and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to pull him close. He said quietly into his hair, “It’s not that. It’s not about any of that at all. I trust you more than I trust myself. But I wish that I didn’t have to be here to witness what we’re going to do, and I’d rather you not be here for it.”

There was a pause before, “Alright. Whatever you wish. I will… leave you all when it happens. I will always follow your orders, even more so that you’re my king.”

Fili smiled, but it wasn’t as big as he wanted it to be. “That’s going to take some getting used to. But thank you. It makes me feel better knowing that despite what we’re going to do, you’ll be far away. I have another job for you, though, if you feel like you’re being left out of the action.”

Immediately, Kili’s mood perked up. “Of course. Anything you need. What is it?”

“You’re right, you do have the lightest feet in all the company, and can stay hidden the most of us all,” Fili said as he watched Thorin disappear behind a mountain of gold. “I need you to leave the mountain pass and make your way into enemy camp during the night and find Bilbo and Gandalf. Tell them what we’re doing. Bring Biblo back. I believe… the sickness will last a while, and I think seeing Biblo again will help Thorin come back to us. If you could do this…”

“I would be honoured,” Kili said, nearly vibrating with excitement. “Your highness.”

* * *

Fili wasn’t actually involved in any of the talking or the fighting or the subduing of his uncle. He was just in charge of standing back with his arms crossed and supervising, staying out of everyone's way so they could manhandle Thorin out of the treasury, past the throne, while he was kicking and screaming about treason and trickery and disrespectful kin as they dragged him away.

He had been trying to stay out of sight, but as they dragged Thorin past him, he looked at Fili with such anger and revulsion that Fili felt his blood run cold as his uncles disgust was directed at him specifically, almost as if he thought that this whole plot was Fili’s doing and he knew what this would mean. “I always knew you would be the one to overthrow me. You never could keep your greedy hands off my prize. Just like your father.”

As Thorin was dragged away towards the brass and stone room deep within the mountain that the dwarves had prepared, screaming at the top of his lungs and flailing against their hold, Fili was increasingly grateful that Kili wasn’t here to see it.

* * *

Five long days after they locked Thorin up behind thick, impenetrable brass doors, Balin came to him, looking tired and worn, his white hair somehow whiter, his long beard twisted and gnarled from many hours of tugging and pulling at it. “How is he?” Fili asked as the old dwarf joined him on the balcony. 

“It is slow going,” Balin admitted. “Daily he throws his fists against the brass until they bleed in an attempt to break down the door, and nightly he curses us for our betrayal and treachery. What news of Kili?”

“None yet,” Fili said. “But I suspect him to return home soon, and with Bilbo in tow, no less.” He had faith in his brother, and it wouldn’t have surprised him if he were currently making his way back to the mountain as he spoke.

Humming, Balin folded his arms and leant over the balcony. “It must be strange, being King.”

“I’m not king yet,” Fili corrected.

“Maybe not in technicality, but in name you certainly are. To us, you are, whether Thorin recovers from this illness or not,” Balin said glumly. “So, your majesty, have you any thoughts on your first royal decree?”

Fili kept his eyes on the shrinking pile of gold in the chamber down below, the gold being counted and categorized by dwarves who can be trusted to lead with logic instead of greed as it was moved into more secure chambers. “Gold, for the men of Laketown,” Fili said. “And those jewels the elven folk requested. I assume you know more about those than I. I shall leave that up to you, while I figure out Laketown's share with Ori.”

He felt Balin’s eyes on him, but he refused to acknowledge it. “You’re worried about other folks at a time like this?”

“That’s the nonsense that got us into this mess in the first place,” Fili said. “If there’s something I can do to fix it, I’m going to do it.”

Somewhere, Thorin’s cries echoed through the halls, the dull thuds of his fists against the brass reaching them through tonnes of old stone. “The sign of a wise king,” Balin said, and though Fili refused to look at him, he believed that he was praising him for acts still to come.

* * *

When Kili eventually returned, just as Fili knew he would, he watched as the rest of the company begged Bilbo for his forgiveness for their part in his unspoken exile before they led him with hushed voices and careful warnings, towards the cage where Thorin was being kept, with the ornate, brass door and the three walls of immovable stone on either side, designed for the keeping of Erebor’s most dastardly criminals before their sentence was dealt. Not that Thorin was a criminal. Just unwell.

He found Kili in his quarters, carefully folding his weathered cloak and tucking it neatly in his rucksack. “How was the trip?” Fili asked, leaning against the doorframe, made of cold stone and his ancestors' handiwork, like the rest of this place.

“Quite an adventure,” Kili grinned as he pulled his pipe from where he had it hidden away. “I have never been quite that close to enemy lines before without fighting. There’s just so _many_. More men than I could count, even if I tried. It’s a wonder someone didn’t spot me.”

“But you did what I asked of you, which I appreciate,” Fili said.

He was relieved to see Kili’s familiar cocky grin. “Of course, my King.”

While Fili groaned, Kili just laughed in answer, jumping on one leg to collapse in a heap on his bed, spread out and comfortable, bringing his pipe to his lips. “Mother would be beside herself if she saw you with your muddy boots on the bed,” he chided weakly. Kili just ignored him. “Did you spot Gandalf?”

“I did,” Kili said. “And I’ve informed him of what’s been going on within these walls. He says he will hold off the attack until we sort it all out, but I promised him I will keep him updated to the best of my abilities.”

“Did you see that woman of yours?” Fili asked as he entered the room further, mostly teasingly. “You know. The elf.”

“Her name is Tauriel, actually. If you’re going to bring her up constantly then you might as well make an effort to know her name,” Kili said, and Fili hid his grin behind his hair as he tilted his head down. “And I made a valiant effort _not_ to see her. Whatever connection we may or may not share, I assume she would have a duty to alert her lord of my presence, and that just wouldn’t do.”

“What a noble sacrifice,” Fili teased as he sat on the end of the bed.

Kili lit his pipe and brought it to his lips, shaking out the match before blowing to stir the embers. “It’s all for the cause,”

For a moment, Fili just watched him. He looked so peaceful, lounging on his bed with a pipe between his lips, eyes closed and legs crossed in a moment of tranquillity. Exactly as a dwarf his age should look. Fili hated to break it so soon, knowing that this might be his last moment of peace for a long while. “I’ve actually come to see you with a request,” Fili managed. Kili opened one eye to watch him but otherwise didn’t reply. “Every good king needs a second in command.”

“Ah, I have been thinking long and hard about that,” Kili blew a puff of smoke, the dark cloud circling the ceiling before dissipating throughout the room. “I supposed Balin would be a good adviser, but I wouldn’t go for someone like Ori, you know? He’s too occupied with documenting what happens and not what actually happens. Bombur would be too obsessed with the food you serve him instead of serving _you_. Nori has sticky fingers, and Bofur likes his drink and lets not even get me started on Gloin. Dwalin is a bit harsh and fights at every opportunity, but I think he would serve you well. That is, if you wanted my opinion.”

As Kili spoke, Fili listened to him with a laugh. When he finally finished, Fili held out his hand for the pipe, and Kili handed to him, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment. Fili puffed on the pipe. “I was actually thinking about _you_.”

Gasping, Kili choked on the smoke in his lungs, and Fili idly occupied himself with his brother's pipe as Kili choked and heaved. “ _Me_?” He spluttered. “Why me?”

“Because you’re my brother,” Fili said easily as he handed back the pipe. “And I want you by my side always. Even on the throne.”

“Fili…” Kili sounded like he was on the verge of tears, and Fili glanced down at his boots with a knowing smile. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re surprised?” Fili tilted his head to glance at him. Kili was sitting very still, so still that Fili wasn’t sure if he was even breathing, and he reached out to hit him lightly on the chest with the back of his hand. “Who else did you expect me to choose?”

It took a few moments before Kili could speak again. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that much about it. But I never thought you would have asked me. I’m…”

“Too young? Too reckless? Too immature? You’d be right,” Fili teased and threw his head back in roaring laughter as Kili surged forward to shove him hard in the shoulder before falling back against the dusty, slightly moth-eaten pillows. “But you’re also my brother. Nobody else ever crossed my mind, Kili. If I’m going to be the King Under the Mountain, then I want you to be my advisor. That’s how it’s always been. You fall, I pick you back up. I stumble, you push my head into the mud.”

“Damn straight,” Kili grinned, all teeth and excitement and childlike enthusiasm. 

“We’re a team, you and I. I would never think of doing this without you,” Fili continued, resting a hand on his brother's knee. 

Kili’s brows pulled together in a frown. “But Fili… I wasn’t raised for this. You grew up with the knowledge that you were always going to be Thorin’s heir, and that one day you may take his place as king. I’ve never had to do that. I know nothing about political affairs and the business of the royal palace. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“And you thought that I grew up expecting to be king?” Fili scoffed. “I knew it was always a possibility, true, but I always thought I would die on the battlefield protecting you or Thorin long before I ever needed to become King. This is all new. But we’ll figure it out as we go. So? What do you say?”

Groaning, Kili swung his legs off his bed, extinguishing his pipe. He ran his hand through his hair, and Fili reached over to push it away from his face. “I think I need a drink,” he managed, and then no more words needed to be said.

Together, they made their way from the warmly lit bedroom and marched through the long stone hallways, arm in arm, until they arrived at the mess hall and poured themselves two generous tankards of mead that were slightly old and musty but still got the job done, seated across from each other on the rickety wooden table. Slowly, other members of their company began to arrive, one by one and looking more exhausted than the dwarf before him, all accounted for but those guarding their uncle’s cell and Bilbo watching on, trying his best to soothe the old dwarf's temper.

“You still haven’t given me an answer, you know,” Fili said idly, running his thumb over the rim of his tankard.

Staring deep into his cup, shoulders hunched and lips pressed into a hard line, Kili kept his eyes on his stein, looking up at Fili’s waiting face and back down, almost like he was nervous about the prospect of being rejected, and he glanced down at his cup so he didn’t have to see Fili’s reaction. “Yes. Yes, I will be your second,” Kili muttered.

Before he could stop it, a laugh escaped his lips, short and loud and so sweet after so long of not knowing what that felt like, and reached across the table to clamp his hand over Kili’s arm. “I honestly hadn’t considered any other option.”

Kili smiled, and Fili couldn’t help but smile back.

* * *

It was Kili who had been given the honour to place the crown on Fili’s head. In another life, it would have been Balin, or Thorin, or even Dis, but their mother wasn’t there, and Thorin was still locked away in a cage made by his grandfather for his most fearsome foes, and Balin knew the importance of family in times like these.

Kili was trying to hold back his grin as he slowly, carefully lowered the thick silver crown with platinum plating, gold filigree and onyx gems indeed in its highest peaks, the metal cool against his heated skin. This was Thror’s crown, Thrain's crown, Thorin’s crown, and now it belonged to Fili.

“Do you, Fili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, agree to wear this crown and lead your people into the light?”

Blain sounded like he was going to cry, but if Fili didn’t know him so well, he wouldn’t have noticed. He glanced up. Everyone was watching him, even Bilbo and Gandalf, who had made the trip for this ceremony specifically. Kili stood beside him, practically vibrating in his boots.

“I do.”

“And do you promise to protect your people, fight by their side and stand for all that is right and just?”

“I do.”

It was so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Nobody spoke. Nobody dared to breathe. Not even Kili, who rarely shut up, who rarely stood so still. He hated all the eyes on him. This wasn’t his _job_. This wasn’t what he was supposed to _do_.

But with Thorin so unwell, someone had to sit on the throne and bring their people home. And if Fili could do that, he would. 

“Then rise, Fili, son of Dis, King Under the Mountain.”

Fili stood, and the whole chamber erupted into an ecstatic cacophony. Though it all, Fili felt his hand on his back and was relieved by the notion that Kili was by his side, and would be for a long time after.

* * *

It was Gandalf who arranged the meeting between the dwarves and the hostile forces outside, and two days after Fili was crowned the King Under the Mountain, Bard the Bowman and King Thranduil stood in their hall, escorted by a dozen armed elves and men with fishing tools, all expecting some sort of fight. Fili spotted the brown-haired elf that had caught Kili’s eye so long ago and silently hoped that he could hold it together long enough to get through this parley.

“What do we owe the honour, _dwarf_?” Thranduil sounded bored, but Fili was keenly aware that the hand under his robes rested on the hilt of a blade. “I love what you’ve done with the place, by the way.”

“Well, _elf_ , a generation of being inhabited by a dragon has a tendency to drag things through ruin. As you have much experience with,” Fili gripped the armrests of the throne. “But I did not invite you here to aid in the remodelling of our home, though you are welcome to it if you wish.”

“Why did you invite us here then?” Bard interrupted before the discussion could get heated.

Fili inclined his head, and Kili re-appeared at his side with a clasped wooden box. “To return to you your possessions. These… moonstone gems for the elves. And a portion of the gold for the men of Laketown, both for your kindness to us while we were injured and for the damages dealt to your town by the dragon.”

Slowly, an elf took the box from Kili, who let him without a word. It was shown the Thranduil, and a white light shone across his face when he peered into it. He waved a hand, and the box and the elf were gone. “Has your uncle finally come to his senses?”

“This has nothing to do with my uncle,” Fili said. “He is unwell. I am the King Under the Mountain. The decisions made here today are my own. He is not in his right mind, and nothing said these past few weeks has come from a place of conflict.”

“You could say that again,” Bard barked out a harsh laugh.

The sound of Fili’s boot against the stones echoed through the halls. “In my halls, you will speak of him with kindness or not at all. It will do you well to remember that, Bowman,” Bard looked cowed, but Fili didn’t falter. “You will have your gold. Enough to sustain you and your people for many generations to come. Ori shall aid you with the finances. But after that, you and your people will never bother us again.”

Bard and Thranduil exchanged a glance. “What’s the catch?” Bard asked.

Fili sat back against the high back of the throne until his head hit the cool metal. “You recall your armies. You return to your homes and you never return. You have what you wanted. There is no more need for this to end in unnecessary bloodshed.”

Once again, Bard and Thranduil exchanged another glance. “That seems fair. Reasonable, even. Not something I expected from dwarves.”

“Maybe you should expand your horizons. I used to think elves were fair and beautiful folk, but then I met you and your people and realized that you are none of the things the history books and nursery rhymes describe you ask,” Fili cut back. Bard lowered his head to hide a smile, but Gandalf lifted his head so his laugh echoed through the chamber. “Do you agree to our terms?”

“Agreed,” Bard said. Thranduil didn’t speak but inclined his head in agreement. Fili decided that it was good enough for him. 

As they passed Gandalf, the wizard placed a hand on Thranduil’s shoulder, the other out in front of him. “As for _my_ part of the deal,” he said in a gravelly voice. “The Arkenstone, as promised.”

Reluctantly, Thranduil reached through his robes and slapped a rounded, multicoloured gem in Gandalf’s hand before continuing on, muttering orders to his people in elvish. Fili watched as Gandalf slipped the gem into his robes. He winked at Fili and nodded proudly. “All hail the King Under the Mountain.”

Fili couldn’t help but wonder if maybe being king wouldn’t be quite so hard. 

* * *

Slowly, things began to fall back into a pattern Fili thought might have been normal for a royal dwarven court. He spent most of his time on the throne, with Kili by his side, a thin band of twisted silver placed delicately on his brow, stark against his dark hair. The other dwarves went about their business, tending to the forges, restocking the kitchen, repairing decaying structures. Bilbo was always around, pottering from Thorin’s cell to the throne room or to find jobs that needed doing within the company of the other dwarves. Gandalf came and went, offering console to Fili and trying to talk Thorin out of his madness. 

A full month after Fili had been crowned king, Thorin had been declared clear-headed enough to be let out of his cell, bound by chains around his wrists and ankles, being guided gently by Dwalin to the throne room. His head was down, his matted hair framing his face, his gaze down on the glinting tiles, ashamed. 

Nobody spoke for a full minute, but Kili wasted no time leaping from his seat and sprinting across the room to collide against Thorin and wrap him in a tight embrace. Caught off guard, Thorin hesitated a moment before he wrapped his arms around his nephew and ran a hand through his hair, unable to hold back a fond chuckle as Kili tightened his hold.

Eventually, Kili pulled back and returned to his seat, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. Fili smiled at him before he turned back to his uncle, loosely guarded by ten weary dwarves, a cautious wizard and a flighty hobbit. They remained in silence, staring at each other, waiting for the first to speak. Fili knew that he should say something, but staring at his uncle, dishevelled and not quite sane, standing in chains like a prisoner in his own home while Fili was sitting in the throne that Thorin had strived his entire life to achieve just didn’t _feel_ right.

But he didn’t need to worry about that. Wordlessly, Thorin fell to his knees and bowed. “Long live the King.”

A singular relieved breath was exhaled from all who was present as Thorin unquestionably gave up his rule without a fuss. When Thorin peered up through his thick brows, trying to judge Fili’s reaction, and when Fili looked into his uncle's eyes, he saw a familiar pride, something he saw when he was young, something he saw from his father before he left for war. It made him feel all warm inside.

Maybe he really was doing the right thing. Maybe, everything was going to work out for the better.

* * *

They had taken down the barricades and the wall of metal plates, and Fili sat on his throne, looking out towards the Lonely Mountains and the sun peaking over the mountain peaks. It was peaceful, with the soft white clouds and the sun glinting off the water, the small city of Laketown slowly repairing and going about their business, not an elf to be seen. Throughout the castle, the goings-on of dwarves could be heard from deeper within the stronghold, their merry voices echoing through the halls.

“So,” Kili asked, seated beside him, leaning over far enough for his hair to tickle the bare skin of Fili’s arm, his chin pillowed on his hand. If Fili were any other man, he would chide Kili for breaking some sort of protocol, but Fili wasn’t that kind of king or that kind of brother. “What now, your highness?”

It was clear that Kili was teasing him, but Fili didn’t roll his eyes. He gripped the armrests of the throne and stared out at the open maw of the mountain, the sun crawling in and glinting on the silver of Fili’s crown. “Now, we bring our people home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I had to write the ancestors names I hear "Thorin Oakensheild, son of Thrain, son of Thror" in my head, so I have to repeat it every time I needed to write it. And I know that dwarves are identified by their ancestors where elves are named after their house, so what IS their name??? Like is it Fili "son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror" because Dis is Thrain's daughter but Thrain is Thror's son? Or is he "Fili, son of dis, son of Thrain, son of Thror" because he is a son in the descendant sense, and not so much in the literal sense?? Does that make sense? I don't know. Anyway, this was a lot of work and I'm kinda glad it's done.
> 
> It's also my birthday tomorrow. I'm kinda shocked.


End file.
